Memphis fanned her face. “Aw, is that your romantic way of saying you care?”
She was so goddamned annoying sometimes. “What if it is?”
“I’m not sure I’d know what to do with that information.”
“Don’t act like I haven’t always cared about you, because I have, and you know it. It’s just, you know… more so now.”
“Ah, because I almost kicked it. I see how it is.”
“You don’t see anything,” he said more sharply than he’d intended. “You were unconscious for most of it.”
She held out her hand.
He stared at it for a long moment, wanting to keep his distance while he still could.
“Take my hand, Jesse.”
With great reluctance, he did as she asked.
“I’m sorry for what you went through after I was wounded. I’m sure it was awful for you.”
“You have no idea.”
“Tell me.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I do. I want to know how it was.”
“It was fucking terrifying, okay? Is that what you want to know?”
“How so?”
Jesse blew out a deep breath, full of aggravation that she’d make him relive it. “I’d never seen anyone lose that much blood and survive. I was sure you weren’t going to make it. And the urgency of the first responders didn’t do shit to calm my nerves. They thought you were going to die, too, even as they did everything they could to save you. We had to get you out of there fast and find a place where the chopper could land… Took fucking forever.”
He wasn’t going to fucking cry in front of her.
As he stood abruptly, he released her hand. “I’ve got to go.”
“Please don’t leave me, Jesse.”
If he didn’t get the hell out of there, he might never leave her side again. He stood, frozen with indecision, until she spoke again, more softly this time, as if her burst of energy was fading.
“Please.”
Exhaling loudly, he sat back down and took the hand she extended to him once again. When was she going to decide he wasn’t worth the bother? Probably any time now.
As she gave his hand a squeeze, he was glad it wouldn’t happen tonight. He’d bought himself a reprieve. Tomorrow, he’d remind her that she was coming home with him.
* * *
Archie couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone so long without sleep. He arrived at home completely tapped out, but so excited to see Harlowe that sleep was the last thing on his mind as he used his key in the door.
Inside, he was hit with the smell of something cooking.
He found her in the kitchen, standing at the stove, spatula in hand, her auburn hair twisted into a bun that made her look smart and sexy. “What’re you doing up? It’s four thirty in the morning.”
“I know what time it is, thank you. I got your text that you were on the way home, and I figured you might be hungry.”
